Masculine Connections Form Differently, Female Friendships A Distinct Way. Should We Stop Trying to Turn Men More Like Women?

It's beneficial to talk. Or so men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the women they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with decades-old friends, yet return with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose personal friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male intimacy—built on apparently avoiding serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. It's no surprise, we think, that over a quarter of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is widespread; that many refuse to see a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, seem permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Reconsidering the Merit of Quiet Friendship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may undervalue the merits of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was studying volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the bond developed among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been distilled into a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just distinct," Yarrow states.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how young children play—alongside each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's argument is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whichever pursuit allows them to spend time in the company of others who also value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not arguing that expressing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a return to the past. Rather, he makes the point that touchy-feely talk is not for everyone, and that more may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?

As a woman's perspective, one is clearly no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of visible emotion should not be confused with a lack of feeling altogether.

Furthermore, while younger men brought up in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at voicing feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.

What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their horror of discussing feelings, they still found ways to express what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Instead, they offered tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while maintaining normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, except without ever naming the elephant in the room.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Need Words?

This is not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and despair—is fundamentally knowing that another person cares enough to be present in life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be put into words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to recognize that varied forms of friendship hold comparable value, each meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own powerful way.